The price of beauty
by Nevar12
Summary: Brunhildas story... WARNING this story does include a lot of violence, sexual situations and some slash. if these things upset you please do not read
1. Chapter 1

Sun beat down heavily through the thick metal bars of the slave auction holding cell, its heat cooking the puddles of urine and feces that filled the crowded cage. The stench lifted itself cut off by the stone ceiling making it hover in the air, its odor churning up what little food rested in the bellies of the slaves within. Brunhilda pushed herself to the corner of the room her sweat covered skin magnifying the suns rays that fell between the hot bars. Surely this was the place they called hell.  
The girl shifted the length of the chains that hung around her wrist and ankles clanging together as they hit one another. She winced as the iron scrapped over her swollen limbs and without looking knew they were bleeding. She was not accustomed to such horrid conditions and it showed in her face. Wide eyes, thinned figure and trembling limbs. This journey had been hard on her because it had never been hard at all.  
It was easy for Brunhilda not to see herself as a slave. She, unlike others had, had the privilege of being born the daughter of a much loved house servant. She was taught posture, German and all the tasks expected of a young house slave except fear. Where she had come from it wasn't needed but here it seemed to be the universal language amongst prisoners. Her masters had been a kind couple in that in all the years she had been with them not once had a single slave been whipped, sold or left to waist away from hunger, even the field slaves were well fed and worked for only a few hours a day. She had been cared for, loved,...protected but like the days sun that was slowly beginning to set nothing lasted forever.  
It was tuberculosis, first the mistress and then her husband. Four months of blood stained handkerchiefs floating in the wash, sweat soaked sheets and verbal fits echoing through the house. With no inheritor to speak of it was no sooner that the master breathed his last breath that she and the others found themselves dragged from the house and crammed like cattle into separate carts sent miles away from one another. If she closed her eyes she could still see her mothers face as she looked back at her from between the bars of a carriage. She couldn't bring herself to cry before. Even then she was still in shock.  
The group jerked in unison as a loud clang signaled the opening of the cell. In front of them stood a thin man with short cut black hair dressed in dirty brown slacks. On his hip he carried a long wip folded into his belt. Behind him two burly men in sunhats glared into the cage but did not move as the first man entered. He looked around at his terrified audience before swinging the whip so that it cracked in mid air sending the rooms inhabitants scurrying back. His eyes scanned the sea of terrified faces untill his cold blue eyes in landed on Brunhilda. Pointing to her he nodded to the men behind him "That one" he said. Without a word the other two entered taking a hold of the girls arms as they lifted her from the floor.  
Authors note: Hey all, So I wasn't sure if I was going to write this story or not but it had been on my mind for so long I just knew it had to happen. I hope you all continue to follow and enjoy this story I plan on putting my all in this one. Thanks for reading :)


	2. Chapter 2

Having lived on the same plantation since birth brunhilda knew nothing of how slave auctions worked. Only a few of the slaves from her old house had

known of the separate world outside of its gates. They had said you could tell a good master by the look in their eyes. That the amount of their kindness could

be easily seen but Brunhilda had only ever known her masters eyes and was unsure of what it was she was searching for.

She looked at the wide eyed faces that stared at her through the bars as she passed and wondered if she looked as terrified as they did. Wondered

what it was her eyes revealed to them, what they would reveal to the people who saw her. She was released temporarily before approaching a stage as a

third man approached from the side with a metal bowl in his hands. He dipped two dirty fingers inside and rubbed a greasy foul smelling liquid over her face

and arms. She gagged and he snarled in response pushing her towards the stage as another man dressed in a blue suit pulled her up onto the wooden

platform.

The girl's heart hammered within her chest, her eyes widening as she looked out on the sea of faces that surrounded her. They stared at her with the

same expression one would a potential furniture piece. "Now here we have a lovely example of one of the finer breeds this here area produces" the suited

man began in a southern twang. "Brunhilda here is sixteen years young". "Cooks, cleans, and speaks german"!

The crowd oohed and ahhed at the mans words alternating their glances from Brunhilda to the speaker beside her. "Take a look at this"he chimed.

The man spun Brunhilda around drawing from her a whimper as he grabbed a hold of the collar of her dress pulling it down the center of her back as his other

hand ran over the length of her exposed skin. " smooth as a baby's bottom so you know you wont have any trouble with this one". Turning her back around

the man gave a sly smile as he placed his hands on her bare shoulders. "Not to mention she's easy on the eyes, I'm sure such a lovely wentch wont have any

trouble warming your fires" He winked before speaking again. "Or your belly".

The men in the crowd laughed some letting out low whistles as their eyes took in the girl. "For a specimen such as this one lets start the bidding at

100" the man stated. A hand raised. "Two hundred" the man went on! A second hand shot up. "Do I hear 300"?! The voices faded into the background as

Brunhilda felt herself drift off. She hoped her new master would be kind. Hoped that maybe her mother was nearby hoped she would see her again one day.

Hoped she wouldn't have to hope. She didn't snap out of her trance untill she heard the man shout "SOLD"!


	3. Chapter 3

His piercing eyes are what scares her the most. A mix between green and brown that pier out from beneath a wide brimmed hat as he sits atop hishorse. They watch her as she moves amongst the cotton rows of the field. It had been over four weeks since she arrived at the Kindle plantation and only onesince master Johnson had been made over seer. She isn't sure what the look in his eyes means but it fills her belly with a sinking feeling that makes her feel uneasy under his gaze. Around her the other slaves move almost in unison as they pluck tuffs of cotton from the thorny flinched at the sound of the man clear his throat. Turning she froze as the man pointed his gun to her. " You, nigger". "Come here"!

Brunhilda swallowed as she looked around at the faces of the other slaves that had momentarily looked up from their work. Some stared slightly opened mouth but said nothing as their eyes returned to their work. Setting aside her bag she made her way towards the man. Leaning forward he spat out a wad of dirty brown liquid as he grunted to the Brunhilda. "Hurry it up gal".She nodded keeping her eyes down as she quickened her approach. "Yes master"? "Here".

Brunhilda jumped back as the man threw a bucket to the ground the remaining contents spilling out over her bare feet. "Get me some water from the well"he ordered. Brunhilda nodded in silence as she moved to pick up the bucket.

The well was a distance away, set between the working fields and the "big house". A small forest lay between that and she decided to cut between the thick brush to save time. As she pulled the bucket from the water her ears perked at the sound of hooves approaching. She knew who it was but could notbring her legs to move. Beside her Master Johnson had made his way up the path. He swung off the horse the spurs of his boots chiming in the silence of the air around them as he approached her his darkened eyes grazing over the girls body.

Towering over her Johnson smiled revealing a set of yellowed teeth. "Hello Hildi" he spoke. Brunhilda kept silent her eyes focused on the grass as the man closed in the space between them. "What do you say when spoken to"? Brunhilda swallowed as she lowered her head. "Hello master John" she whispered. Satisfied with her answer the man stepped back and Brunhilda watched from the corner of her eye as the man lips parted his tongue running over the length of his bottom lip as his eyes continued to roam over her form.

"Sure are a pretty nigger wench aren't you "? Brunhilda said nothing the heavy beating of her heart filling her ears with the loud rush of blood as she clasped the bucket within her fingers. "I just gave you a compliment gal" he snarled. "What do you say to me"? "Thank you master john" she whispered. Brunhilda moved to leave but theman shifted cutting off her path. "I'll go back to working now master" She offered. The girl flinched as he placed his hands on her shoulders, rough callused thumbs rubbing circles over her exposed skin. She tried her best not to look at the mans face. "Please I just want to finish my work" she whispered.

She could feel the sting of tears as her throat fought hard to suppress the lump that had began to build in the center of her throat. It was then she knew for sure what he wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

Brunhilda whimpered as the man pulled her towards him. She shook her head unable to say the words that sat at the tip of her tongue but still it was a rejection the man was not keen on recieving. Johnson's eyes faded to a near black as his grip tightened around the girls shoulders. "Now I ain't gonna hurt you gal" he spoke. "Not if I don't have to, but if you ain't going to be a good wench for me I might have to get a little rough with you".

Brunhilda pulled away at the mans words but he held her in place, one hand clasped in a painful vice like grip around her wrist. When she pulled again his grip opened and she found herself falling back onto her hip.

Pushing her onto her back the man straddled the girl as his hand took a hold of her blouse pulling the thin fabric past the her shoulders. Brunhilda's hands flew up beneath him taking a hold of the mans hand as it roughly cupped her breast. She begged and pleaded with the man between sobs hoping that some inkling of mercy would be provided. "Please master Thomas...Ive never been with a man". "All the better " he laughed. Leaning forward the man brought his lips to the girls ear. "I'll teach you how to be a good comfort girl".

His hands moved again pushing the length of her dress past her thighs as he forced her legs apart. She had heard stories from other slave women some of them even younger than her. Stories of the hands that crept over them while they slept doors that closed behind them sealing their fate but there was a part of Brunhilda that was sure such a thing would never happen to her. Sure that in her gilded world such a torture would never exist.

Above her the man's foul breath fell over her like a fan his slimy tongue running over the side of her cheek as he attempted to kiss her. She breathed in small labored burst the mans weight crushing down on her as he grinded against her figure. She shook her head her fist beating against his chest. "No"!

She looked on in horror as the man removed his erect member placing it at her entrance. A moment later it moved to the opening of her center and she whimpered in pain as he pushed himself inside. The man grunted in response his head falling into the crook of her shoulder as he continued to drive into her. Brunhilda lay limp beneath her attaacker her head turned away as he grabbed at her exposed breast. The tears fell freely now spilling out over the mans dirty fingers. Now she truly was a slave.

When it was over his hand moved up to pat the side of her tear stained cheek. "Good ...girl" he spoke through pants. "Very good". Tucking himself away the man remounted his horse. Wiping the remainder of sweat from his forehead before nodding to the fallen bucket. "Get that water back to the field".

Brunhilda lay motionless until the sound of the horses fading footsteps brought her out of her shock. Reaching for the bucket she winced in pain as her battered muscles worked to lift her from the ground.


End file.
